Blackout
by ice shredder
Summary: After that, he vowed no one would raise their hand to him again without his say-so. Hard 'T' for adult themes and implied physical abuse. now semi-canon divergent. Enjoy!


**A/N: So in honor of my 33rd story to FFN and the last fic of 2015, I've decided to jump on the Black Emerald bandwagon, lol. Even though they're baddies, that isn't gonna stop me from speculating on their backstory and how their relationship blossomed over the years. Spoilers up to Vol 3 Ep 6 of the show, so read at your own risk! Told through Merc's POV from childhood till his current age.**

 **Side note: for the oneshot's sake-and in any other works featuring this character-I've taken unofficial creative license and named his weapon 'Quicksilver' until Merc or the show say otherwise. keep in mind, this is an ORIGINAL NAME so don't sue me, m'kay?**

 **Disclaimer: All RWBY characters and weapons-except the name 'Quicksilver' belong to RT and the late Monty Oum.**

 **Warning: Hard 'T' for adult themes. Also the scenes time-skip a lot in no particular order so Merc and Em's ages will reflect that. Enjoy and don't forget to review! :)**

Mercury hated alcohol.

It was the one unwanted constant in his life the six year old spent many a night hiding under his bed or in his closet to escape his dad's drunken rages while the older man succumbed to the bottle. He always knew when the old man was around, thanks to the booze clinging to his dirty clothes and sour breath. But sometimes he wasn't quick enough to avoid the blows that left bruises on his pale skin.

He became an accomplished actor before the age of nine. Not realizing how that skill would be utilized in the coming days.

...

When he was eight, he began to secretly study martial arts and it wasn't long before a young Mercury threw his first kick.

He made his old man the first of many targets, relishing in the bastard's screams as he pummled the drunk into a quivering bloody bowl of salsa.

After that he vowed _no one_ would raise their hand to him again without his say-so.

When he turned ten, he celebrated by permanently running away from home. It'd take him another three years to acquire the black ultradurable metal, footwear and firing mechanisms to build Quicksilver, his formidable shotgun boots. And during that harsh growing period he met Emerald Sustrai.

...

He'd never thought _any_ girl would find him attractive. Hell his old man-thanks to those damned brown bottles-constantly beat him down to the point when he finally mustered up the nerve to run away from home, taking the mental abuse that he was a _pathetic loser who'd never amount to anything, you stupid no-good waste of space-_

Yet here she was-an exotic, dark-skinned crimson-eyed beauty he'd worked with for close to six of his sixteen years-pushing her firm breasts against his rock-hard chest with a drowsy gleam in her eye that he managed to identify in his breathless assessment as wanton lust. He ghosted callused fingertips over her silky, firm waist that caused her to draw her full bottom lip into her teeth and her crimson orbs to turn an addicting shade of dark red wine.

All it took was a throaty whisper _please Merc,_ for the sixteen year old to shed the last of his restraint and he seized her hips in a rough lift that made her devilish smirk bloom into a dazzling smile.

In a blur of motion, the kicker worked her into a windowless room barely big enough to serve their needs. A small bed with a firm mattress took up half of some no-name gentlemen's club private suite reserved for a more _personalized_ service. Yet to the two renegades, it was a five-class hotel room in Atlas.

Their lips fused together in a desperate union, all slick tongues and clicking teeth. One that said, _what the hell took you so long?_ Two orphans who were abandoned by the ones who were supposed to love and cherish them found solace in each other.

Mercury sat back on his heels as he peeled off his dark grey and black shirt, then shifted his body so he wouldn't accidently crush the slender girl under his weight. Flushed and breathless from their make-out session he carefully reached for her low-cut top-which left nothing to the imagination and with a single, fluid motion, pulled the strip of olive green cloth down to reveal those wonderfully toned breasts in all their glory.

Mercury's mouth went dry as his grey orbs shamelessly devoured the delectable sight spread out before him. Emerald smiled her permission as she guided his hand to her chest. The moment his palm made contact instinct took over.

She arched her back threading slim fingers through his messy hair, moaning as his mouth closed over her free nipple. Fire burned through her veins, her heart, traveled through every cell and pore and nerve ending. And she craved _more more more-_

 _-I'm yours Merc.-_

That was the last coherent sentence the kicker could process through his endorphin-flooded brain before he went to work exploring her most intimate places.

He flicked the button open on her white jeans and unzipped her fly but chose to keep both their lower garments intact, trying as best as his passion hazed state would allow to catalog where his touch gave her the most pleasure, so he could revisit those places again in the future.

For some weird, inexplicable reason it made what they were doing even _more_ daring and scandalous and-oddly enough- _raised_ the excitement level.

In the space of about two seconds, Mercury wished his old man could see what he was doing, for the sole purpose of rubbing it in the drunkard's beer-bloated, unshaven face that he was dead, dead _wrong-_

...

They were both thirteen when Cinder found them one day, bringing fire and smoke and the promise of a new world. Emerald latched on to the older woman with the slavish devotion of a servant, the longing of a scared little girl craving validation for her very existence.

Mercury didn't question this at first. As one of the most important members of the inner core group, he and Emerald had their hands full carving their names in blood throughout the criminal underbelly as two of Cinder's budding premiere assassins. By fifteen they were hardened killers. Murder became as natural as breathing to the mismatched pair. What precious down time the fire-witch alotted to the ragtag group of mistfits Mercury made sure him and Emerald spent the time partying and ravishing each other in the privacy of the nearest hotel they could find.

But as the time drew closer to execute Phase 2 of Cinder's master plan, 17 year old Mercury grew more pensive. Posing as Haven students set to compete in the 40th Vytal Festival was all fine and dandy but that meant Em would be putting on her fake social butterfly mask while him and Cinder played the part of socially awkward weirdos. Knowing firsthand how much she _hated_ mingling with happy, normal, well-adjusted kids, Mercury knew it would be that much sweeter when their smiles were replaced with vacant hollowed, eyes and crushed souls.

He closed his slate eyes, briefly wondering if his dad realized just how _big_ the consequences of his drinking problem towards his son would be for the rest of the world. War would sweep in like a malevolent tempest and the unsuspecting city of Vale would be the first to get engulfed by a rushing tide of darkness, death and despair.

Then he shrugged a severely toned shoulder. If all went as planned, it wouldn't matter what a pathetic drunk thought- _if_ the old fool was still alive-much less Vale, or its school of stupid, dreamy-eyed bozos who got off on kiddie fights and delusions of becoming 'heroes'.

...

His first real test of the current crop of hunting hopefuls was fighting the reigning Mistral champion Pyrrha Nikos of Team JNPR. The kicker walked to meet the first of many potential threats to Cinder's plans. Team RWBY had been among the first entries in an ever-growing target list. Thanks to a now imprisoned Torchwick, the girls' strengths and weaknesses-along with their allies-were carefully cataloged and every henchman they hired was immediately briefed on how to best use the kids' fighting styles against them when engaging in combat.

Mercury felt his female partner's concerned eyes dart over him as he got into position, hands raised. If he played his cards right the Amazon would reveal her Semblance without making him show her his own.

It didn't take long for him to learn it was Polarity, an extremely rare and dangerous power. As soon as she shifted the trajectory of his kick using Quicksilver's metal plates he'd seen enough and called a forfeit. Mercury shared a silent look with Emerald lengthening it just enough to reassure he was alright and that he got what he needed.

The tall man walked off stage, not looking back. He was done for the day.

...

Prom.

A night of memories and embarrassments, refreshing drinks and delicious foods and a never-ending stream of dance offs.

Mercury tugged on his golden bow tie to make sure it wasn't crooked. He slid his gaze over to Emerald. She looked absolutely stunning in a sleeveless olive dress and black ruching that accentuated the curvaceous waist he loved. Tonight while everyone was distracted Cinder would infiltrate the Communications Tower and implement the Black Queen virus that would grant them unlimited electronic access and bring the system down from the inside.

Emerald stood before the floor length mirror in their room staring at her reflection. Mercury noticed her deadened expression and slipped both hands around her hips.

 _-It's only a few hours. Try to endure it.-_

She snaked a hand around his head and pulled him down for a slow, sensual kiss. One that made him want to ditch their roles as happy-go-lucky teenagers, hike up her dress, and take her up against their dorm wall with the sultry thief moaning his name. But duty called. Reluctantly he pulled away. _Later,_ he mouthed. She nodded and within seconds her plastic friendly mask was firmly glued in place.

They observed from the balcony for a while before heading downstairs to dance. Any second now Cinder would finish her mission and they'd be allowed to flee the sickening display of teenage hormones on overdrive. Mercury fought the urge to vomit as he swayed with Emerald to the pace of some stupid, cheesy waltz that wouldn't be caught dead on his playlist. Only the company of the woman in his arms kept him from tearing off his bow tie and ripping his shirt front several buttons down so he could breathe.

Finally after what seemed like an eternity Cinder made her grand entrance dressed in a sparkling gown of shimmering black glass. Tapping Emerald on the back she smoothly asked if she could cut in, the question having the force of an order behind it.

He asked the fire-witch how her night was going and she responded with a jest of it being more exciting than she expected.

Translation: she'd gotten into a fight and was almost busted.

...

For the next several weeks leading up to the Vytal Festival all was quiet. Mercury and Emerald split their time 'mingling' with the loser brigade that consisted of Teams RWBY, JNPR, SSSN from Vacuo and on occasion CFVY-which they hated-and upping their private training regiments-which they wished they had more of.

And then before Mercury knew it, the tournament was upon them.

With Cinder rigging their matches thanks to gaining access to Ironwood's scroll, the randomization process...wasn't so random. As the kicker stood with Emerald across from Coco and Yatsu-whatshisface, he couldn't wait to hand these Beacon wannabes their collective asses. Even though the both of them were powerful hitters their bulky weapons severely hampered their agility, and thus would be too top-heavy to respond to fast, close quarters combat.

Several fast and furious flurries later both the giant and the model were out cold. He looked up to where Emerald emerged from the forest biome casually swinging one of her weapons like a flail as she strolled to meet him in the middle.

Mercury stood staring down at the fallen warriors, cool disdain on his sharp features. He was already bored, looking past the brutal curbstomp towards the 1v1 finals. The chumps neatly sprawled before his boots were just appetizers.

He was hungry for the main course.

...

 _We've done it._ Mercury thought as he clutched his leg, rocking back and forth as the capacity crowd angrily booed Xiao Long for 'attacking' him after the match. _Thank dust Quicksilver's durable and Neo was able to work her magic._

Not for the first time did he appreciate Cinder's cunning. This wouldn't have worked if he faced a calmer more collected fighter like Belladonna or Schnee. Judging from their shocked expressions after viewing the instant replay he felt proud of what they accomplished.

But right now, he needed to see his role all the way through. Taking an aura blast to the knee hurt like hell so the pain wasn't being faked. But he was pleased. At this moment, on this stage, on this very special night, Mercury Black held the world in the palm of his hand.

He heard Emerald call his name with the appropriate amount of worry and distress as she rushed to kneel at his side, bracing his head and shoulder. She had every right to be concerned. If the timing had been off by the slightest nanosecond, someone would've been able to see through the illusion.

 _-Why'd she do that? Why'd she attack me?!-_

The shock and disbelief in his voice was so over the top he wondered how _nobody_ was picking up on it.

Next thing he knew the bimbo was being disarmed and cuffed. White coats with a red crosses flooded his vision as the medics ran to place a splint on his leg before being stretchered out of the arena.

The rising tide of negativity spread like a poisonous wind as he caught snatches of distraught voices-most of them female-crying their eyes out. Desperately wondering if he was gonna be okay.

 _Oh I'll be more than okay._ He masked his dark thoughts with a pained grimace. _When I see Vale run red with blood and the world burn to ash. That's when everything will be okay._

 **-end**


End file.
